Secret Heirs: Royal Appointment. Carol Marinelli

Marco moved on, the two of them were alone again. ‘I thought you’d have gone in search of nuts by now,’ Luca remarked dryly.

      ‘I was waiting to say goodbye to you.’

      ‘Ah.’

      Was he convinced, Callie wondered, or had he guessed that she was trapped like a rabbit in headlights by his brazen masculinity?

      ‘So why are you here, mystery woman? You’re staying at a five-star hotel, but work in the fields picking lemons?’

      ‘What’s wrong with that?’ she challenged.

      ‘Nothing.’

      ‘Well, now we’ve got that sorted out, I’ll say goodnight.’ To give him his due, there was no more questions. Luca shrugged and stood aside to let her go, but as she passed he reached out to smooth a lock of hair from her face. His touch thrilled her. Her skin tingled, and her nipples tightened, while tiny pulses of sensation beat low down in her belly.

      ‘Stay,’ he insisted. ‘You’ll have more fun.’

      That was what she was afraid of. ‘Should I be flattered by your suggestion?’ she asked coolly, searching his eyes.

      ‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘You should be on your guard.’

      She made a point of glancing around. ‘Are there many predatory men at this party?’

      ‘None that stand a chance of getting close to you.’

      ‘Will you keep them away? I would have thought you had better things to do.’

      ‘And I thought you were leaving,’ he countered.

      ‘I am.’

      He could hardly believe it when she walked away. This wasn’t a woman he could tease into his bed, but a woman to be reckoned with. Good. He needed a challenge. There was only one woman who could hold his interest tonight. He could hardly believe the transformation from butterfly at the bar, to working girl in the lemon groves. It was a good mix. That stubborn chin clinched it for him. He was done with insipid. She had a great walk too. He feasted his eyes as she walked away from him with her head held high and her shapely butt swaying provocatively beneath the simple clothes. She hadn’t a clue who he was. He doubted it would have made any difference. Status meant nothing to Callie, as proved by her easy transition from luxury living in the five-star hotel, to some of the hardest physical work in the area.

      The sun had been kind to her today. Flushed from physical activity, she looked good enough to eat, something he’d put on hold until later in the evening, he reflected dryly. He watched as she met up with her friends. She was more relaxed than she’d been at the hotel. Laughing easily, she mimed words when the different languages spoken became a problem. Nothing seemed to faze her. Apart from him.

      She was comfortable around everyone, as he was, and far more beautiful than he remembered. Young and natural—even the smear of dirt on her neck only made him think about licking it off. It was time he stopped thinking about Callie naked in his arms, or he’d be walking around the party uncomfortably aroused.

      And, before he committed himself to taking her to bed, there were questions to be answered. Why was she picking fruit for a few euros a day when she was staying at a five-star hotel? Was it just for the experience? Who was funding her? Why was she in Italy? Was this a holiday or an escape? If she was escaping, from what? He had no intention of allowing Max to lure him into a honey trap that could discredit Luca, and expose the principality of Fabrizio to corruption beneath his half-brother’s rule. It was time to find out more.

      As he approached Callie her friends melted away. ‘Where are they going?’ she asked with surprise.

      They were diplomatically giving him space. Callie couldn’t help but be oblivious to the dynamics that existed between a prince and his people. However much he would have liked it to be different, obstacles between him and Utopia were not in his gift to remove.

      ‘Anyone would think you’d got the plague,’ she said, bringing a comic slant to bear on the situation.

      ‘Let’s hope it’s not that serious,’ he said, loving the way she could pop the pomposity bubble before it even had chance to form. She had raw, physical appeal, he mused as she stared up at him. It was all too easy to imagine her limbs wrapped around him as she sobbed with pleasure in his arms. ‘Dance?’ he suggested, curbing baser needs.

      ‘Not if I can help it,’ she exclaimed.

      The response was pure Callie. ‘Why not?’ he demanded, play-acting wounded.

      ‘Because I have two left feet and the sense of rhythm of a hamster on a wheel.’

      He shrugged. ‘Should be interesting. I’m a fast mover myself.’

      She raised a disapproving brow, but her eyes betrayed her interest.

      ‘Perhaps I can slow you down?’ he suggested. ‘Show you an alternative to racing to the finish?’

      Her cheeks flushed red. She’d got the sexual message in his words loud and clear, but she hit him with a blunt response. ‘You must be wearing steel-capped boots to feel so confident. And I’m going to sit this one out.’

      He was nowhere near finished and caught hold of her arm. Momentum thrust her against him. She felt sensational, strong, lithe, and yet softly plump in all the right places. She was so tiny compared to him, but they fitted together perfectly.

      ‘You’re taking a lot for granted.’ She frowned, but made no attempt to move away.

      ‘I don’t see you rushing off,’ he countered softly.

      ‘Caveman.’

      ‘Nut freak.’

      ‘Nut freak?’ She stared into his eyes. Her lips were just a tempting distance away.

      ‘You’re quaint,’ he said, meeting her jade-green eyes head-on.

      ‘Quaint?’ she queried.

      ‘Old-fashioned.’

      She appeared to consider this, and then said, ‘There’s nothing wrong with tradition. Someone has to take responsibility for keeping standards high.’

      Yes. That was him. He stared at a mouth he could have feasted on until she fell asleep with exhaustion. ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured.

      ‘About what?’ she asked, her brow crinkling in enquiry.

      He didn’t care. He just loved to watch her lips move as she goaded him. The thought of teasing those lips apart with his tongue to claim all the dark recesses of her mouth, along with everything else, fired him up until the hunger to take her was all-consuming. ‘That dance we talked about?’

      ‘You talked about.’ But she didn’t resist when he steered her towards a space that miraculously, as far as Callie was concerned, had opened for them on the packed dance floor.

      When Luca pressed her close she gasped at the intensity of feeling. She was conscious that people were staring at them and whispering, which she guessed was only to be expected when she was dancing with the hottest man at the party. Why he’d chosen her to dance with, she had no idea. She hadn’t exactly made it easy for him. When he nuzzled her hair aside and kissed her neck, she didn’t care what his reasons were. She didn’t care about anything. The world and everyone in it simply dropped away.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      RISK VERSUS PLEASURE, Callie thought as she flicked a glance into Luca’s eyes. Even the briefest look sent heat surging through her. She could trust herself for one dance, she decided, which might have had something to do with the fact that when Luca took hold of her hand a thrill raced through her. When his other hand slipped into the hollow in the small of her back, she could think of nothing but closer contact. Fighting the urge, she kept a sensible distance between them. Other